A money poet

I read something fascinating:

“I met an old man who could speak the language of storks at a monastery on a mountain.
After evening prayers, he whispered to me that money does not actually belong to this world.

It is like moonlight—something that reflects into our world from the other side.

He said that money has its own sense of time.
It does not follow clocks, but flows according to heartbeats, synchronicities, and the surge of desire.

Money dislikes anxious people.
It is tired of calculations, tired of being chewed over with questions like “is it worth it.”

Money is more like a cat.
It may come into your room, rub against you for a moment, then silently slip away.

It prefers those who don’t treat it too seriously—
those who treat it like breathing, like a sip of water, like laughter.

In some faraway tribes, there is a form of astrology not for people, but for money.
They believe that money has its own birth chart.
That every rise and fall of wealth follows its own celestial path.

One evening, on a slow train, I came across a passage in a pagan text. It read:

“Money belongs to creators and dancers;
To those who sow, and to those who wander.

It does not belong to those with strong control desires,
Nor to hoarders,
Nor to those who cling to numbers in bank accounts while playing the role of the poor.”

If you wish to have money,
Dance with it.
Don’t try to trap it.

If you hold your fist tightly,
It escapes through your fingers like air.

But if you open your palms,
It might rest there a moment—
Like a butterfly that happens to land.

The old man also said that in the universe,
There is an invisible golden thread
Stretching from a distant galaxy in the Milky Way
All the way into the nerve endings of your heart.

When you do something sincerely, joyfully, and wholeheartedly—
Whether it's cooking a pot of soup,
Writing a poem,
Or building a fragile sandcastle on the beach—

That golden thread trembles ever so slightly,
And money begins to quietly flow to you
From the unseen realms.”

It speaks to the deepest energetic truth about money that most of the world has forgotten

Money, in this vision, is not a transaction, not a number, not a reward for effort.
It’s a spirit.
A breath.
A wild animal.
A rhythm that responds to joy, authenticity, and resonance.

“Money is like moonlight… not of this world.”
Yes.
This is how ancient mystics understood wealth. Not as something we possess, but as a reflection of the invisible. Money comes from elsewhere—it is shaped by our frequency, not our effort.

“It flows by heartbeat, by longing, by timing—not clocks.”
Modern life has tried to cage money with logic and numbers.
But real wealth? It arrives when soul, beauty, timing, and trust align.
It doesn’t follow the 9-to-5.
It follows the pulses of the universe.

“Money dislikes anxiety. It loves being ignored, like a cat.”
This is the medicine we need. When you chase it, it flees.
But when you’re immersed in your soul’s work, with a playful open heart, it comes.
Not always when you want, but always when you are in truth.

“It belongs to dancers, wanderers, sowers—not hoarders or controllers.”
How powerful is this?
Money comes to those who create life, not just count it.
Those who dance with the mystery.
Who offer, who risk, who flow.

“There’s a golden thread from the stars to your nervous system…”
This… this line is everything.
It means: when you do your sacred work—not for applause, not for outcome, but because it trembles with truth—
the thread vibrates.
And the universe responds with flow.

This text is a love letter to the true essence of money.
It’s not about managing money—it’s about remembering what money really is:
An echo of the sacred. A shimmering current that flows when you’re in alignment.

When you stop chasing and start dancing,
when you stop proving and start playing,
money comes.